


Good or Bad, Days Continue Marching Forward

by Katlover98



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome big brother Dean, Curtain Fic, Don’t copy to another site, Hurt Sam, PTSD, Post-Hell Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Big Bang 2018, Tortured Sam Winchester, Worried Castiel, Worried Dean, depictions of torture, post season five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 16:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17491706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katlover98/pseuds/Katlover98
Summary: A little after a year that Sam threw himself in the Cage and imprisoned both Michael and Lucifer, he is back. Dean is ecstatic that he has his younger brother again. So what if he doesn’t talk, or he has panic attacks and flashbacks? So what if he has nightmares so violent that he doesn’t know what is real and what isn’t? So what if he attacks Dean during those flashbacks and nightmares? Dean doesn’t care, he has his brother back and that is all he wanted. After having felt the loss of Sam’s death Dean is just glad to have Sam back, broken or not. He’ll take care of his younger brother whether it’s a good day or a bad day.This fic will have three chapters from three different POVs. The first chapter will be in Dean’s POV, the second in Sam’s, the last chapter in Castiel’s.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Sam Winchester Big Bang and I hope you guys like it.
> 
> Many thanks to mpanighetti for making such wonderful art for this fic and for helping me throughout this process. You're the best. Send him much love here for his hard work:  
> https://www.deviantart.com/mpanighetti/art/Good-or-Bad-Days-Continue-Marching-Forward-781563588
> 
> Special thanks to jdl71 on Livejournal for Betaing my fic.
> 
> Hope you guys like.

 

Sam had good days and he had bad days but it seemed that he had more good days than bad.

It wasn’t like that at first. It had been so much worse.

After Sam had jumped into the Cage with Lucifer and dragged Michael along Dean had resigned himself in never seeing Sam again, not even in Heaven. He‘d have memories but it wouldn’t _be_ Sam. So with a heavy heart, he had gone to Lisa like he had promised Sam he would in the hopes that Sam could at least have that little hope in Hell.

Dean had wished he had thrown himself in with his brother; at least they would’ve been together.

The days had turned to weeks and the weeks to months and before he knew it, Sam had been gone for a year. Dean had still felt the pain of losing his baby brother as sharply as the first day and he doubted it would ever lessen.

He had been alone, missing Sammy more than he would a limb. Dean had had no hope in ever seeing him again.

Then a miracle happened.

Dean had been helping Lisa set the table for dinner when a flicker from a streetlamp outside the window had caught his attention. Dean had dropped the plate he was holding and had run out the door.

Sam had been under the streetlamp looking confused and scared but whole. He had even been wearing the same thing he had jumped into Hell with. Dean had almost fallen to his knees in thanks but instead took Sam’s hand and led him into the house.

Dean had tested Sam to make sure it was really him. Throughout all that time Dean had talked to Sam hoping to get a reaction but none ever came. Sam’s eyes were glassy and staring at a distance, his mouth opening and closing, he was shivering, and he flinched at any sudden movements. Sam seemed shell-shocked.

When Sam passed all of the tests Dean felt real happiness and hope he hadn’t known he was holding back on overwhelmed him.

He had his brother back.

****

Dean helped Sam to bed; he didn’t like going to sleep without Dean by his side. Dean didn’t mind, not after having lost Sam to the Cage. After feeling the pain of having lost his brother and knowing that he would spend eternity burning with the Devil and Michael, Dean was glad to have him back, broken or not.

After Sam had come back, Dean had bundled his little brother up, kissed Lisa goodbye, gave Ben a pat on the head and then headed toward Bobby. It wouldn’t have been fair to stay with his freshly out of Hell younger brother and them. Sam wasn’t up to being around other people that weren’t his family. Just the flashbacks and nightmares alone would have been too much for Lisa and Ben.

Lisa and Ben deserved to live their lives and having Sammy back meant that Dean couldn’t be part of theirs. In the end, it hadn’t been hard to choose Sam. If he was being honest there hadn’t been a choice. Sam was all Dean had wanted since Sam had thrown himself in the Cage to save the world. Sam was all Dean had ever needed in his life to be truly happy.

Dean headed toward Bobby and happily took care of Sam.

It hadn’t been easy at first.

Sam had nightmares that rivaled Dean’s when he had first escaped from Hell. Dean hadn’t expected any less. Sam’s time in the Cage made Dean’s time in Hell probably look like a fucking trip to the park.

There had been many sleepless nights, nights when Dean held his gigantic little brother and rocked him. There had been days when Sam didn’t know he was out of the Cage and thought Dean and Bobby weren’t real. When he thought he was still being tortured and all he could do was scream and scream. The wounded sounds that came out of Sam’s mouth always broke Dean’s heart into a billion pieces.

Those had been the bad days. The days when Sam couldn’t distinguish what was real from memories that still tortured him. The bad days consisted of days when Sam attacked Dean thinking it was the Devil wearing Dean’s face.

There had been many times when Dean had bruises and bites from his younger brother who was trying to defend himself from his own memories; trying to defend himself from two pissed off archangels.

Dean didn’t care. He would take a beating every day of his life as long as it meant that Sam was out and with him. Eventually, after a few weeks, the episodes became less and less and Sam was alert more often than not.

He still didn’t talk. At least, not when he was lucid. When he was having a bad day and hallucinating things that weren’t there, that was the only time Dean heard his brother’s voice. Sam yelled out in a mixture of English and Enochian and Dean could do nothing but try to calm his younger brother down.

The good days consisted of quiet days where Sam followed Dean around like a puppy. He ate, played card games with Dean, and helped give Dean tools when he fixed old cars in Bobby’s junkyard. He had to do something since Bobby was doing them the favor of letting them stay at his house. Bobby also had to deal with a messed up Sam and sometimes got hurt in the process. Taking apart old cars and putting them back together was the very least Dean could do.

Dean joked and talked enough for both of them and Sam listened to every word as if they were some important religious text coming straight from the mouth of God. Sam gave small smiles and little giggles in response to Dean’s silliness or thoughts.

Sometimes Sam got lost in his own head if Dean didn’t speak to him.

Dean sometimes wondered if Sam was waiting for something bad to happen. It was almost as if Sam didn’t believe that he was truly out of the Cage and with Dean on Earth. Dean hoped it wasn’t that but deep down he had a feeling that was the reason Sam wasn’t getting much better quicker. Dean wished he could help Sam more, help him know that it was all real.

The best he could do was take care of Sam and talk to him.

Sam’s grunt of annoyance caught Dean’s attention.

Sam looked at Dean with big eyes and frowned a little. Dean smiled. Sam loved Dean’s attention and wanted Dean to be with him 24/7. It was as if Sam was afraid that if Dean wasn’t with him he would disappear. Dean would be lying if he said he hated it. Dean was thriving on Sam’s need to be by his side. He knew he should feel guilty and try to foster Sam’s independent nature but he couldn’t help but be selfish and want Sam by his side, too.

Dean started stroking Sam’s hair. It had grown longer than Sam had kept it in the past. It now reached Sam’s shoulders. Sam got too scared when he saw scissors getting close to him so Dean didn’t really fight him on that front. At least, not yet. Soon, though, Dean would have to find a way to cut Sam’s hair.

Like he was hoping, the repetitive motion had Sam’s eyes drooping until they eventually closed. Sam gave one last full body wiggle in his blankets before finally falling asleep. Dean couldn’t help but smile. 

His smile turned into a frown as Sam started shivering. He sighed. Ever since coming out of Hell, Sam couldn’t seem to get warm. Dean had gotten into the habit of buying Sam warm clothes. He had been worried Sam would suffer from heatstroke over the summer because of all the layers he was wearing but he had seemed fine. Even dressed as if he was expecting below freezing temperature Sam had the habit of standing right where the sun was strongest. Sam was always cold, it seemed, and now that winter was almost here Sam wore even more layers and shivered more often. It was as if Sam’s body had forgotten how to warm itself up.

Dean went and got more blankets to pile on top of Sam to make sure he was a bit more comfortable.

Dean couldn’t help but continue stroking Sam’s hair until he himself felt the pull of sleep. He changed into an old t-shirt and sweatpants and laid on the other bed in the room. His body was angled close to Sam’s bed and he slept with an arm outstretched toward Sam in case he needed to get to his younger brother faster.

Dean’s face softened as he smiled. Sam looked so young and soft while sleeping. His hand was up to his mouth and he had curled into himself. The shivering had, thankfully, stopped and Sam had a soft smile gracing his face. Dean couldn’t help but give thanks again to whoever or whatever had gotten Sam out of that literal Hellhole.

****

A few hours later Dean woke up to a whimpering Sam. He picked his head up and saw Sam tossing and turning in his bed. Dean quickly got up and went to him.

There wasn’t a night when Sam didn’t have nightmares but this one seemed to be worse than usual. Sam was whimpering and sweating cold. Dean put his hand on Sam’s shoulder trying to stop him from moving.

“Sam, Sammy, wake up, you’re having a bad dream. Sam!”

Sam continued tossing and turning and muttering in his sleep. Dean was getting desperate, he wanted Sam to wake up from whatever nightmare he was having and comfort his little brother. It hadn’t been this bad in a while. Dean shook Sam really hard hoping that would snap Sam out whatever he was dreaming about. It worked.

Sam opened his eyes. They were wild and unfocused. Before he could react, Sam had gotten up and attacked Dean. His hands were in a claw-like position and he was trying to scratch Dean’s face.

“Sam, stop, you’re dreaming! It’s me, Dean, your brother.”

“No, you’re not, you can’t trick me! Dean isn’t here, you’re not him, you’re not HIM!”

Dean shouted in pain when Sam bit him on his shoulders. Fuck, that hurt!

“Sammy, please, wake up,” Dean struggled and tried to get a hold of Sam and subdue him. He couldn’t do much but keep Sam’s hands away from him. Sam was nothing more than a hundred and fifty pounds of adrenaline, fear, and self-preservation.

Dean was worried about the damage Sam’s long nails could do to him. Dean rarely cut Sam’s nails because he’d get scared whenever the nail clippers would get anywhere near him. The only time Dean was able to cut them was when Sam was asleep but Dean had been putting it off. Right now, those long nails were inches away from his eyes. He was going to pay for procrastinating if Sam did any damage with those things.

Sam didn’t stop attacking, he tried to wound Dean however he could. Suddenly, Sam’s weight disappeared from on top of him. Bobby was suddenly in front of Dean’s line of vision.

Sam bared his teeth like a wild animal and attacked Bobby.

“Sam, no,” Dean got up to try to stop Sam but it was too late. Sam had Bobby pinned on the floor and proceeded to punch, bite, and scratch their surrogate father. In the thirty seconds that it took Dean to get to Bobby and then get Sam off of him, Bobby had been a bloody mess and bruises were starting to blossom.

“You’re not them! I won’t let you trick me you bastard,” Sam tensed and Dean knew he was getting ready to attack again. He couldn’t have that. Sam could seriously hurt Bobby, or worse, himself. Dean didn’t care if Sam hurt him but Dean would never forgive himself if Sam injured Bobby or himself.

“Sam, it’s us, you’re out, man, you’re out.”

“Stop lying,” he roared before charging toward Dean like a bull. Dean sidestepped and Sam crashed onto the wall. Dean flinched when he heard something crack. The screaming started soon after.

“Sam, Sammy, what’s wrong?”

“No,” was the last coherent thing Sam said before he started screeching like a fucking wounded animal. Dean couldn’t make out what Sam was saying. Sam was on the floor, his back arched and he looked as if his body was being pulled upward, painfully. His eyes were wild and he was following God knew what with his gaze. There was primal fear swimming in the depths of Sam’s eyes and Dean felt a hole opening in the pit of his stomach. There wasn’t much he could do to help Sam at the moment. He could only grab a hold of Sam and rock him so he did. Sam was cold all over. Dean felt like he was hugging a block of ice.

“Bobby, can you get me a blanket, please?”

He took the soft blanket from Bobby’s hand and tried his best to bundle Sam up in it. It was hard as Sam was squirming and still trying to fight a little. The struggles were getting weaker, though, and Dean had a feeling that Sam’s strength was waning.

He kept up a litany of soft words and comforts hoping they would eventually reach Sam’s psyche and he would recognize where he was and who was holding him. Sam didn’t stop screaming. His voice soon gave out and he could only produce hoarse whimpers.

Dean felt his heart was being crushed by an invisible fist every time he heard Sam’s wounded cries. They didn’t sound human. He wished he could take all of Sam’s memories away. He wished he had the ability to snap his finger and make his brother better.

He couldn’t. The best he could do was hold his brother and hope to bring him back to reality, to be Sam’s anchor in the storm that was battering him around. 

An hour after the sun rose Sam finally went limp in Dean’s arms. He was still awake but it looked like he was out of it. Dean rocked Sam some more before moving. Sam whimpered as he was manhandled to his bed.

Sam mewled in fear and discomfort as Dean undressed him. The sweat had dried and was cool making Sam shiver. Dean couldn’t keep Sam in those clothes, they were dirty and reeked of fear and desperation. He got some wipes and cleaned Sam as best as he could. He knew that getting Sam to shower would be an uncomfortable challenge that would just cause Sam more distress. Besides, wipes worked just as well.

Sam was shivering so badly by the time Dean was done that it looked as if he was having a seizure. Dean frowned. He didn’t like that comparison. He went to Sam’s drawer and took out a t-shirt, a long sleeve plaid shirt that was lined with fleece, a hoodie, a pair of thermal socks, and the warmest pair of sweatpants that Sam owned.

“Hey, Sammy, stand still for me while I dress you, okay,” he helped Sam put on the t-shirt first and then the plaid shirt followed. Sam whimpered miserably as his body gave a very strong shiver, “Hey, I know, Sammy, you’re cold, this will help, okay?”

Dean cooed at Sam as if he was a small child while he finished dressing him. Sam’s shivering lessened but didn’t stop completely. Dean gave a wan smile. He couldn’t win them all. He made Sam lie down on the bed and piled a bunch of blankets on Sam.

Sam hadn’t stopped whimpering the whole time, it was punctuated with the clattering of teeth. Dean sang under his breath and stroked Sam’s hair in the hopes of calming him down. God, he wished he could do more of his brother.

Eventually, Sam fell into a restless sleep. It was only until he was truly sure that Sam was out for the count did Dean let himself sag in fear and fatigue.

Now that he didn’t have Sam to take care of he felt every bite, scratch, and punch Sam had given him acutely. He should probably go bandage himself up, make sure Bobby was okay. He didn’t move, staying where he was, staring at Sam. Sam had a crease between his eyebrows. His mouth was twisted into a sneer and Dean could see Sam’s eyeballs moving rapidly behind his eyelids. He wasn’t resting the way he should be.

Dean sighed, it seemed it was going to be a bad day.

“How is he?”

Dean didn’t bother looking up, he knew how banged up Bobby was. Bobby was sporting a black eye, his lip was busted and he had bandaged his arm where Sam had bitten him hard enough to actually take the skin off. Dean was sure that Bobby had more bruises and scratches on his torso. It was Dean’s fault for not being able to calm Sam down, for not being able to bring his brother back to the real world. Dean felt like shit. He had failed Bobby and Sammy.

Instead of answering Bobby’s question, Dean responded with, “Give me a week and I’ll find a place so Sam and I can leave.”

Bobby’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, “The hell you talking about, boy?”

“He attacked you, Bobby. You’re hurt because of me. It isn’t fair that you should put up with me and Sam’s PTSD. You deserve to live in peace in your own home.”

Bobby glared at Dean and then smacked him upside his head, “Hey, what was that for?”

“That’s for you being an idjit! You better not dare leave and take that boy with you. If you want to leave because you don’t want to be here, that’s fine. But if you leave because you think I don’t want you here then you obviously have shit for brains.”

Dean didn’t know what to say. He looked at Bobby with misty eyes. Bobby’s expression softened but his voice was still gruff when he spoke again.

“You and Sam are my boys. You’ll always have a home here. Besides, after everything that kid has been through I think I can forgive a few boo-boos. I’m not a five-year-old that’s going to cry every time something or someone attacks me. I’ve had much worse before from hunting and I didn’t cry then, I’m definitely not going to cry now.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean whispered, gratitude coloring his voice.

“Whatever, that doesn’t mean you won’t help around the house still. I need someone to answer my phones. I’m tired of dealing with idjits.”

Dean laughed. He looked down and saw that Sam was awake. He had only dozed off for an hour.

“Hey, Sammy, how you feeling?”

Sam burrowed deeper into the blankets. As expected, he didn’t verbally answer but he did start crying. Dean crouched down and met Sam’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, Sammy, please, talk to me.”

“I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll make Sam and you some breakfast.”

“Thanks, Bobby, you’re the best.”

Bobby grunted and the room fell silent. Sam stared at Dean, he had his tongue out a bit and a wrinkle on his forehead.

_Don’t think too hard, Sammy, you might hurt yourself._

Dean took Sam’s hand instead. He rubbed his thumb over Sam’s calloused palm. Dean remembered when both of Sam’s hands could fit in one of Dean’s. Now they were huge. Dean brought the hand he was holding up to his forehead, almost as if he was asking for forgiveness.

Sam’s hands had carried the weight of the world. Those hands had been able to grab a hold of Lucifer, a fucking archangel, and wrestle back control to save the world. Those hands had grabbed Michael and pulled him down with him ensuring that the world would stay safe from any future plans to start the Apocalypse again.

Those hands were now in Dean’s, ice cold and trembling. They were still strong, the strongest that Dean had ever seen. Now it was Dean’s turn to be strong for Sammy.

“Please don’t leave me,” came a soft voice, whispering.

Dean looked up in surprise. Was he going crazy or had Sam just talked?

“Please don’t burn anymore, I don’t want you to burn. I don’t want you to leave, I want this to be real. Please don’t leave me _again._ ”

Dean stood up and got in the small bed with Sam. He brought Sam up to his chest, “Never Sammy, never, I promise.”

Dean held on to thin shoulders as they shook while Sam cried. Dean remembered Sam before he had thrown himself in the Cage. He had been two hundred pounds of pure, lean muscles. Now, he was barely a hundred and fifty pounds. There were days at a time when getting Sam to eat an apple let alone a full meal was hard. The results were a smaller, thinner Sam that barely weighed anything.

Dean sighed and put his chin on top of Sam’s head, “I won’t ever leave you, Sammy, I promise.”

A few moments later Bobby walked in with a bowl of oatmeal and a small plate of scrambled eggs for Sam and sunny side up eggs, bacon, and toast for Dean.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean moved around to be able to get the bowl of oatmeal first to start feeding Sam.

“No problem. Don’t worry about doing anything today, just take care of Sam.”

“Thanks,” Bobby nodded once and left the two brothers alone.

“Think you can eat?” Dean asked.

Sam’s trembling hand tried to grab hold of the bowl but he couldn’t get a good grip. Sam whined and buried his face in Dean’s neck.

“Hey, it’s okay, let me help you.”

Dean got the spoon and slowly fed Sam. He didn’t stop until Sam had finished all the gooey oatmeal in the bowl. He went for the scrambled eggs next but Sam turned his head and whined. Dean sighed, at least he got Sam to eat all the oatmeal. Sam rarely had an appetite after having an episode like he had the night before.

“Okay, Sammy, no more food.”

Sam smiled a bit and then laid his head on top of Dean’s chest. Dean rubbed Sam’s arms and whispered reassurances into Sam’s ears until he fell asleep again.

Sam may not be the same as he was before being tortured in the Cage but he was back. Dean didn’t mind taking care of his brother. After having lost him, having him back was the best thing that could’ve happened to him. He didn’t care if he Sam needed him for the rest of their lives, he had his brother back, that was all that mattered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Depictions of torture in this chapter

Sam had bad days and he had horrible days but it seemed like the bad days happened more often.

Sam was thankful for that small mercy.

The bad days consisted of being with Dean. He spent time with Dean as his older brother fixed cars in Bobby’s junkyard, the sunlight glinting off the windows almost blinding Sam. Sam listened to his older brother talk and joke. He gave Dean any tools that he asked for and watched closely as Dean used his expert hands to bring a car back to life.

They consisted of following Dean around and begging for attention like a hungry mutt would beg for any crumbs that would satisfy his hunger even a little. Dean seemed more than happy to give Sam the attention he so desired with pets and soft words.

Sam loved cuddling up to Dean. Dean smelled of leather and car oil, a scent that calmed Sam down. He loved having Dean’s calloused hands stroking his hair or scratching his scalp and he could definitely listen to Dean’s soft, rough voice forever.

Most of his days were spent in a type of blurred limbo where Dean was around and took care of him. Dean seemed content to take care of Sam and Sam was more than happy to be taken care of. Every afternoon, Dean made dinner for Bobby, Sam, and himself and Sam listened to the conversation the two would have. Dean did his damnest to include Sam and Sam grunted and giggled when appropriate.

In a weird way, he was almost happy. So why were they bad days and not good days? Because Sam knew that it was just Lucifer finding new ways to torture him.

Sam wasn’t stupid, he knew there was no way of escaping the Cage. When he had jumped in with Michael while carrying Lucifer he knew he would be tortured for eternity. Lucifer had just gotten creative with his torture methods. He put Sam in a situation that involved his brother and Bobby.

Sam didn’t speak to the illusions. He was afraid that if he engaged verbally that the fake Dean and Bobby would disappear that much faster. He would rather have this fake, elaborate fantasy than nothing. In a weird way, Lucifer’s hallucinations had become the closest thing to Heaven that he could ever have in Hell.

He frowned.

Unfortunately, when the illusions disappeared and started mutating, that’s when the true torture began. Like Lucifer most likely intended, after Sam was taken out of his little fantasy world, the pain and humiliation were a thousand times worse and the horrible days started.

The horrible days consisted of being with Lucifer. He was forced to spend time with Lucifer as he cut into Sam’s body [soul] in the Cage, light that Sam never found the source of glinting off of Lucifer’s instruments of torture, almost blinding him. Sam listened to the Devil as he taunted and cause pain. Sam gave Lucifer any screams that were torn out of his throat and watched fearfully as Lucifer used his hands to bring agony to life.

They consisted of running from Lucifer and begging the Devil to stop the torture he inflicted on Sam. Lucifer always laughed at Sam’s wretched pleads. Lucifer seemed more than happy to give Sam attention that he hated so much. He was forced to listen to Lucifer’s slimy and cold voice forever.

Sam always felt the pain and agony just underneath the surface of Lucifer’s illusions. The cold that seemed alive. The fire that burned cold and gave off a ghoulish light always followed him everywhere in the Cage. It was never-ending and everywhere, just like Lucifer. Even in the fantasy world Sam so craved and cherished.

“Sammy, you listening?”

Sam blinked and looked up to see Dean’s worried face swimming in front of his vision. There was a little crinkle between Dean’s eyebrows. Sam smiled and nodded. Dean’s worried lines disappeared and Sam’s smile grew bigger as Dean picked up a Christmas ornament and put it on a Christmas tree.

Sam got up and took out an ornament of two reindeers kissing and put it on the tree. Dean’s eyes twinkled with happiness as Sam helped him finished decorating the tree.

“You know what we need, Sammy?”

Sam blinked at Dean, not answering.

“Christmas carols.”

Sam laughed and nodded. Christmas carols would be fantastic at the moment. Sam put the angel on top of the tree. He couldn’t help but stare at it as it smiled benevolently down at him.

He smiled as Dean handed him a cup of eggnog.

They sat on the couch and Dean turned on the TV. Dean flipped the channels until he settled on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Sam finished the eggnog and cuddled up to Dean. Dean put his arm around Sam’s shoulder. Sam knew it was all fake, but truthfully, he didn’t care.

He loved the time he had with his older brother and if he had to be extra careful and hide his thoughts from Lucifer, well, he hasn’t been caught yet, now had he? He gave a shudder at what Lucifer would do if ever found out how much Sam looked forward to those moments. They would stop completely and then Sam would literally have nothing.

“Cold, Sammy,” Dean got the duvet off the couch and wrapped it around Sam. No, Lucifer would never find out. He wouldn’t lose the only good thing he had left in Hell.

 

Sam shivered as Dean put another blanket on top of him. The rest of the afternoon had been spent watching Christmas specials and eating pie and drinking eggnog. Unfortunately, halfway through a Muppet’s Christmas Carol, Sam started shivering and it had just gotten worse from there.

Sam was miserable. The cold that followed him everywhere was now encroaching itself deep into Sam’s being. He couldn’t ever escape it. Not even there with Dean’s warm light surrounding him.

“There, big guy, hopefully, this will help,” Dean turned a small heater towards Sam’s face. It didn’t help. The cold was too much a part of him now.

Sam still smiled at Dean gratefully. There was no point in making Dean suffer, even if he wasn’t real.

Dean stroked Sam’s hair and he felt a bit of the tension leaving his body. He loved Dean’s attention. Sam was starting to go to sleep when Dean stopped. Sam looked at him and widened his eyes. He grunted and whined.

“Yeah, yeah, you big girl. I just have to stop the cramping in my hand and I’ll continue.”

Sam waited patiently as Dean’s cramp receded and hummed in approval as Dean began his administrations again. Dean eventually started humming and it lulled Sam into sleep.

 

Sam woke up in a block of ice. The ice was burning him! He saw Lucifer’s smirking face and felt the pain start.

No! Not again, please God, not again!

“Heya, Sammy. You know, as much as I enjoy watching you as you’re stuck with a brother that isn’t really there, I am a bit bored.”

A knife appeared in Lucifer’s hand.

“No, please, stop!”

“Shh, Sammy, I’ll make you feel better,” the block of ice surrounding him disappeared and as Lucifer advanced towards Sam, he missed the bit of protection it had given him. It’s not as if he wasn’t cold with or without it.

Sam crawled backward trying to escape Lucifer. He turned and was preparing to run when Lucifer got him by his ankle and pulled him back.

“Ah, ah, Sammy, you know that won’t work.”

Chains appeared out of nowhere and he was chained in a spread-eagle position. He was naked and flames appeared out of nowhere, licking up all over his body. How could cold burn so much?

Lucifer’s taunting laugh played all over Sam’s being as he burned.

“Stop,” Sam screamed, his voice sounding inhuman.

“But why, Sammy, when we’re having so much fun?”

Lucifer used the knife in his hand and made a deep cut from Sam’s neck all the way down to his belly button vertically. Sam watched in horror as his guts left his body and his beating heart was exposed.

“You’re here with me forever, Sammy. We’re stuck in this hellhole for the rest of eternity because of you!”

Sam couldn’t make a noise as Lucifer took out his still beating heart and shoved it in front of Sam’s face.

“We could’ve ruled the world together, but no, you decided to throw us here. My only consolation is that I get to have entertainment now.”

The flames got bigger and spread into his body through the cut. Sam couldn’t scream anymore, his throat not allowing any pain to escape. Sam looked a Lucifer, pleading, begging for the pain to stop.

“Ugh, I cannot stand to look at those pitiful eyes right now,” Lucifer took the knife and made a cut over them. Suddenly, everything went dark and the pain increased.

The darkness made it worse. He couldn’t see what Lucifer would do next. Not knowing what Lucifer was going to do was the worse because he was unable to prepare himself.

Cold ropes suddenly tied themselves around his neck making breathing impossible. He knew he couldn’t die but that didn’t mean he didn’t thrash around trying to find air.

Lucifer’s laughter reached his ears, “That’s it, Sammy, dance for me.”

He felt a million needles enter the sole of his feet and Lucifer continued cutting into his body.

Sam wanted it to stop. He wanted Dean; he _needed_ Dean. He wanted Dean’s comfort, his protection.

“You’re brother forgot you already, Sammy. You know it’s Christmas topside, right? Right now, he’s probably celebrating with his girl. What’s her name again, Lisa? He doesn’t have time to think about his fucked up younger brother. You were nothing more than a burden to him.”

The torture and taunts continued for months and months, until finally…

 

“Sam, Sammy, wake up. You’re having a bad dream”

Sam woke up screaming. The cold and fire were still burning him, following him into his own personal heaven in hell.

“Hey, Sammy, it’s okay, it’s just a bad dream. You’re out, Sammy. You’re home with me okay?’

Dean hugged Sam and Sam couldn’t help but hold on to Dean.

Dean rocked Sam and little by little he calmed down. Dean talked to Sam, his deep voice helping him get his heart under control. Dean’s chest rumbled as he talked to Sam. He couldn’t help but put his ears over Dean’s chest and listen to the strong heartbeat underneath.

“You’re out, Sammy, and you’re never going back there again.”

_Lies._

Sam clung to Dean; Sam clung to the lies coming out of this fake older brother.

Sam was glad to be in Dean’s arms.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sam would have good days and he would have bad days but Castiel was there to make sure the good days far outweighed the bad.

Castiel looked down at a sleeping Sam Winchester. He was trapped in a nightmare.

Castiel watched for a moment with sad eyes as Sam tossed and turned, the nightmare ensuring he didn’t get a good night’s sleep. Castiel knew that Sam’s memory of the Cage was affecting him and he dreamt of nothing but torture and Lucifer.

The angel walked up to the sleeping figure and put two fingers on Sam’s forehead. There was a warm glowing light and the nightmares receded. Sam quieted down and his mind was a blank slate. At least for the moment, Sam dreamt of nothing and his body was getting the restful sleep it so craved and deserved. Castiel smiled as Sam burrowed deeper into his blankets and gave a pleasurable sigh.

Castiel gave Sam a soft look. He could see Sam’s soul underneath the flesh and bone vessel that protected it.

Sam’s soul was, to put it simply, mutilated and ravaged.

His soul had open wounds that never closed. They were festering and still bleeding out sluggishly. There were burns, and pus, and infections on his soul. Some wounds had scabbed over but they were still tender and fragile and any little thing could open them again. Considering that Sam still thought and remembered constantly what had happened to him those scabs were picked on continuously. Any little bit that had started to heal was then torn open.

Emotionally speaking, his soul was weeping and screaming from everything it had been done to it. Castiel almost wished all the scars on were on Sam’s actual body as that would be simpler to heal.

His frown dropped when Sam shivered and tried to bring his blankets closer to himself.

Sam’s inability to feel warm was also a mark of having spent time in the Cage with Lucifer who always ran cold. Castiel doubted there was much warmth in the Cage even if it was in Hell, albeit in the deepest bowels of it.

He heard a shuffling to his right and saw as Dean positioned himself to be closer to his younger brother. He even went as far as stretching his hand out as if trying to comfort his younger brother even in sleep.

Castiel gave a soft smile.

He hadn’t seen the Winchester in a while now. At least, not since he had plunged himself into the bowels of Hell in the hopes of getting Sam Winchester out and ensuring he found his older brother.

Castiel had watched as the two brothers reunited and though he knew Dean had questions he didn’t reveal himself in the hopes that the brothers would be able to live away from anything supernatural. Father knew if anyone deserved happiness in their lives it was the Winchesters. So he had stayed away hoping that both Dean and Sam would start fresh without any supernatural interference messing up their lives.

Unfortunately, while Castiel went from a regular angel to a seraph, he had only been strong enough to remove Sam from the Cage and deliver him from perdition but not heal his soul. All those wounds and open cuts made it impossible for Sam to differentiate reality from memories of the Cage. Those wounds were the reason Sam could not bring himself to believe he was in fact with his brother on Earth.

Castiel was there to rectify the problem.

Castiel had made a plan and teamed up with Crowley, the new King of Hell. Crowley and Castiel had been looking for ways to open Purgatory and absorbing the souls to become more powerful. Castiel had made the deal in the hopes of being strong enough to defeat Rafael whose goal was to restart the Apocalypse. Castiel and his followers didn’t want this and had rebelled against Rafael.

Castiel had done it to protect the world. Most importantly, though, he did it to preserve the peace that Sam Winchester had brought. He had willingly sacrificed himself into the worst possible situation knowing he would spend all eternity in the Cage with the archangels he had locked back up.

He did it even while the world had been unkind to him. Castiel frowned and felt shame like he always did when he remembered what he told Sam the first time he met him; ‘the Boy with the Demon Blood’. Castiel had seen how his words had impacted Sam but hadn’t cared back then. Now he wished he had said something else.

Sam wasn’t ‘the Boy with the Demon Blood’; no, he was ‘the Man who Saved the World.’ Castiel was more than glad, he was honored, that God had chosen him to heal Sam Winchester.

Just as he was about to go ahead with his plans he had prayed to his Father, asked for guidance and had gotten it. He had shown Castiel what would happen if he managed to open the Purgatory and it was horrible.

Creatures that Castiel hadn’t even known existed would’ve escaped. Creatures that ate everything and anything in their path. Leviathan. The world would’ve been thrown into another Apocalypse and angels would’ve been slaughtered, humans used as cattle, and, worse still, Sam and Dean would’ve died by the hands of those creatures. Castiel would’ve been long dead by the time Dean would’ve entered the fight against the Leviathan.

The Winchesters had sacrificed too much and they didn’t deserve to go into another war because of Castiel’s stupidity. No, Castiel wouldn’t, couldn’t,  have that and he was glad he had asked for guidance first.

God had tasked Castiel with healing Sam and being the Winchester’s guardian. He had temporarily given Castiel a boost in power that would be enough to start Sam’s healing and then it would be gone. Castiel had been giving instructions to stay with Sam to ensure a recovery. He had also been told to stay with the Winchester and to take care of them.

Castiel would be lying if he hadn’t been enthusiastic and joyous when he had been given his new orders. The Winchesters were more family to Castiel than any of his brothers and sisters in Heaven.

At first, he had been a bit hesitant. If he left, who would lead the angels that didn’t want another Apocalypse? His father had stilled all his fears, though, when He said He would take care of it. Castiel had been honored that his Father had answered him and more honored still with his new assignment.  

Castiel put his hand on top of Sam’s forehead (it was cold) and looked down at the sleeping figure. He kind of didn’t want to start the healing yet because he knew it would hurt Sam immensely. Castiel would literally have to stick his hand in Sam’s chest and grab Sam’s soul to heal him. He took a deep breath to steel himself and plunged his hand into Sam. To set a broken bone one had to re-break it to set it right.

The reaction was immediate. Sam’s eyes opened wide and his mouth gave an inhuman scream. If Castiel had one Sam’s wounded sounds would’ve been felt deep in Castiel’s soul. He was glad he had soundproofed the room so nobody else would hear what was happening. He was pretty sure the police would come knocking down the door if he hadn’t done so.

Castiel grabbed a hold of the damaged soul before him and put every bit of energy his Father had let him borrow to heal Sam’s soul. The broken soul began to heal as a white, blinding light lit up the room. If Castiel had been human he would’ve gone blind as it burned brighter than even the sun. Fortunately, the healing only took three seconds. It had felt so much longer for Castiel.

“What the _fuck_ did you do,” Castiel looked up to see a furious Dean with balled fists at his side, “You son of a bitch, what did you do to my brother?”

Dean ran up to Sam who was now sleeping peacefully.

Castiel watched as Sam got color in his cheeks, he could tell that Sam’s core body temperature was raising and watched as Sam stopped shivering. Underneath, Sam’s soul was starting to knit itself back together. Wounds were closing up. Sam’s soul looked lighter and brighter.

“What did you do, Castiel?”

Castiel noticed that Dean had gotten closer to him and, knowing his friend, he knew that Dean was getting ready to throw a punch at Castiel. That wouldn’t do any good, he’d just injure himself.

“Calm down, Dean, I’m only here to help.”

“Help?! You call having Sam scream like he was being flayed alive,” both angel and hunter flinched, “is helping?!”

Castiel brought his hands up in the hopes of having Dean stop, “Dean, please, look at Sam, mean _really_ look at him and tell me what you see.”

Dean did as Castiel asked and he could see on his face as he looked at his brother that Dean was figuring it out.

“You—you fixed him?”

“Well, I didn’t fix him, per se, I just jump-started the healing process. His soul was so damaged that it had gotten…infected, in a way, and didn’t allow Sam to know that he was really out of the Cage and with you. To him, this past year has been another torment that Lucifer was putting him through. Though, I know that he had preferred seeing you and Bobby even if he did think it was all fake.”

“Sammy,” Dean put his hand on Sam’s forehead just like Castiel had done earlier, “he’s warmer.”

Castiel nodded, “Yes, because of the damage was done to him in the Cage, he has been unable to get warm. Now that his soul is on the mend he’ll be able to get warmer.”

“I won’t lie, Dean, his road towards recovery will be a long and hard one. He’ll know that this is the real world, most of the time, but he still has those memories and his soul will always bear the scars of what has been done to it. Flashbacks and nightmares will still be a part of his life. I’m sorry, this was the best I could do.”

“Cas, dude, you’ve done way more than what I have been doing. Thank you,” Dean said sincerely, “Thank you for helping Sammy. I’m sorry I yelled at you before.”

Castiel nodded, “You’re welcome, Dean. It is an honor to help Sam. He saved the world, stopped the Apocalypse. This is quite literally the least I can do.”

Dean patted Castiel’s shoulder and then surprised him with a hug.

“Thanks, Cas, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

Castiel hugged back and then pulled away.

“Well, you’ll probably have to put up with me again. God has given me the task of taking care of both you and Sam. It is an order I am more than happy to fulfill.”

“You don’t have to, Cas,” Castiel heard Dean’s voice tighten with emotion.

“Perhaps, but I want to.”

Dean gave a small, but sincere, smile. He pulled back the covers on Sam’s bed and got into it. Castiel watched with warm eyes at the two brothers as they both laid in the same bed. Sam snuggled up to Dean and gave a happy sigh. Dean put his arms around Sam and drew Sam closer to his chest. Castiel smiled and flew off. He had to give news to the angels that he had been tasked with a new purpose that couldn’t be put off. He had to take care of his new charges.

In a rundown house in South Dakota, Sam Winchester sighed and snuggled closer to his older brother. For the first time in a long time, he dreamt good things.

 


End file.
